


Five Days Left...

by slugapunch



Category: OMORI (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Spoilers, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28620540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slugapunch/pseuds/slugapunch
Summary: Sunny doesn't plan on getting up at all this morning. Or afternoon, more like. It's just so much easier to lay down and wait for something to happen.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87





	Five Days Left...

You used to think you were an awful person. All of the signs pointed to it, right? The only friends you’d managed to make were from before you were old enough for people to recognize just how off you were. And now that you think about it, did you ever even make any of your friends on your own? Mari knew Hero, and Kel tagged along. You all met Aubrey together. And she brought in Basil. You’re not very approachable. You know that. You don’t speak, you don’t emote. You can’t really expect anyone to be able to hold a conversation with you, or to even just try, but in your opinion that’s perfectly fine. For as long as you can remember you haven’t needed anyone but the people you already had. They understood you, seemingly without even trying. Sometimes you wonder if the only reason you can keep the friends you have is the fact that you don’t speak. But if that were true, then you should have been able to keep your friends. You didn’t say a word, and yet you are alone.

Five days left. The ‘sold’ sign has been up a lot longer than that, but it still didn’t feel quite real. After all, much of your room had been packed up in boxes for several years. This wasn’t much of a change in scenery. 

Five days left. Your dad left the house first, driving ahead to settle into the new apartment first. Or at least that was what you were told, but he didn’t say goodbye to you before he left and your mom was crying when she told you. Your dad hadn’t been able to look you in the eye ever since it became obvious what happened. You’re a little bit glad he left so quietly, a little bit ashamed that you could never so much as apologize. But the largest part of you is just numb.

Five days left. Your mom left the house just this morning, because someone really does have to prepare the apartment. You woke up much later in the day. You know there must be a message waiting for you on the phone beside your bed, and probably several notes around the house. Your mom had said she’d leave a list of chores that needed to be done before the movers came. Though you haven’t gotten out of bed yet today, you’re sure the sun will be setting soon enough.

...You turn in your bed to face the wall, and pull your covers up higher. 

There was a time, long ago, where laying down and doing nothing for so long would make you bored out of your mind. But these days, these months, these years, you’ve found that this is all you’re able to do. Most of the time you can’t convince yourself to go down the stairs to grab some food. And the bathroom down the hall has perfectly fine tap water, so what’s the point in drinking anything else? You remember the days where the time spent inside your house was leading up to a sleepover, half the time. The family dinners with stories from work and school, your family members talking with food still in their mouths because there just wasn’t enough time to pause, there’s too much to say- And there’s endless memories made in your backyard, over in the tree house. That tree house! You and your friends only used it for not even a year, but somehow you remember more from those days than the time you’ve spent out of it.

You’re as close to happy as you ever get when those dreams come. Endless time with your friends. Whenever you want to see your sister again, all you have to do is turn the corner, and she’ll be waiting with a smile. You live more for your sleep than you do for your life. 

It’s your fault that things are this way. It had been an accident! You know that. You’re sure that you never would have done it if you knew what would happen. But… that doesn’t change the fact that it’s your fault. You ruined your parents’ lives, you ruined your friends’ lives, and you ruined your own. Maybe it’s for the best that you no longer have the energy to leave the house. Wouldn’t everyone be better off if you wasted away? Wouldn’t everyone be better off if you…?

Instead of finishing the thought, or considering it more seriously, you turn back over in your bed. It’s a useless motion; you’re not getting any more comfortable and you’re not falling back asleep. But you also know you’re not getting up, so. You stare at the ceiling. There’s discolored spots all over it, the remnants of glow in the dark stars stuck up and eventually peeled off. Who will live here in a week? Who’s going to make use of the old tree house you worked so hard to build? Who’s going to meet your old friends? Who’s going to notice the stump behind the house and think of it as a perfect place to sit? Who’s going to look up at your ceiling and see the marks of those old stars? Really, it doesn’t matter. You had so much here back then, but now you have nothing at all. You’ll be glad to be gone. You’ll be glad. Flipping over onto your stomach, you rest your head into your pillow. You don’t have anything left here, but that doesn’t mean you can’t remember the times when you did. You would give anything just to go back and get another chance, an opportunity to make things right. But you know that chance isn’t coming. You know the best things you have are your memories. You close your eyes, and think of your friends, hoping to dream of them.

Five days left. You’ve got a good idea of what you’re going to do with them, and you very much doubt that it’ll look any different from this.


End file.
